


if you're looking for truth, don't come looking for me

by sirenofodysseus



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Abuse, BDSM, CBI-bashing, California Bureau of Idiots, Characters die but this IS canon compliant up till S4, Craig O'Laughlin is a precious sunflower, F/M, I'm an awful person okay, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, M/M, Red John loves to fuck everyone okay?, Red John: the miracle man, Timothy Carter shouldn't be allowed around children either, Voyeurism, a love letter of sorts, because fuck season 4, grumble grumble grumble, h/c bingo prompt: branded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5579221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenofodysseus/pseuds/sirenofodysseus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They each had their own particular reasons for becoming an acolyte to Red John; or my odd (and at times, rather head canon-y) love letter to Dumar Tanner, Rebecca Anderson, Craig O'Laughlin and Timothy Carter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you're looking for truth, don't come looking for me

**Author's Note:**

> So, this started as a way to express my love for the (in my opinion) less-liked characters within this fandom. Somehow though, it spiraled waaaaay out of control (as per usual with all of my fics) and spawned canon tales in several different directions. 
> 
> I'd apologize for this fic, but seriously, I had the best time writing it.
> 
> (Also written for my H/C bingo card, prompt: branded).

I.

 

                He tells people Red John is a miracle man; a prophet, who is leading the way toward a better and brighter future—but he’s not a believer of that particular philosophy, himself.

                Red John is both a smart and calculating individual, but Dumar Tanner is not foolish. He sees the man behind the mask and he has his stupid father to thank for that, as the fool paid the ultimate price for his lack of silence. Never one to be compared to his bastard of a father, Dumar stays silent and does exactly what is expected from him to thrive.

                He knows he’s a bland-sort of man with a bland-sort of name (Ted Hardy), but it’s only because that’s what Red John asks of him. By blending in, he’s less conspicuous—less noticeable and less of a suspect—but above all, he’s less likely to be missed when (not if, never if) Red John kills him. Nobody would ask why _he_ , a man so isolated and desolate, would align himself so perfectly to the goals of a megalomaniac considering his constant contact with his father. They’d automatically hear about his father’s perchance for murder and sum it up as, “the rotten fruit not falling far from the tree”, instead of seeing his aligned loyalty as a underhanded way of survival.

                Disobeying Red John is one thing; for the man is _anything_ but understanding and kind in his punishments. Deflecting from Red John, however, is an all-together different atrocity as it’s an automatic death sentence—a fact, Dumar knows all too well.

                That doesn’t detour him from dreaming of ways to escape though. He dreams of ways to escape while he recruits, whilst Red John fucks him, while he kidnaps Maya Plaskett, before he comes face-to-face with Patrick Jane, and even as he’s leveling the stolen weapon at Teresa Lisbon’s body.

                But there comes a point, when _dreaming_ of escape isn’t enough and the loyalty tattoo on his shoulder becomes more like a fucking noose. And after Patrick Jane shoots him and he’s bleeding on the ground, he still finds his last breath to laugh at Red John.

                For, Red John’s anything but a prophet.

 

II.

 

                She knows Red John is a miracle man; a savior, for helping her become resilient once more after her father had all but destroyed her—but she keeps all of that hero-worship toward him, tightlipped. 

                Red John is both a kind and caring man, but Rebecca Anderson believes the world has _truly_ been cruel to a man, who is only looking for ways to expose both the darkness and the light for what they actually are. Above all else though, she thinks Patrick Jane is probably the cruelest of them all for not appreciating Red John, as the man had _freed_ him from a life of gaudy outfits and verbal belittling’s from his ghastly cheating whore of a wife, Angela Ruskin-Jane. But, _of course_ , nobody thanks Red John—they just blame him for doing the right thing.

                All while ignoring, for one goddamn moment, that the right and easy thing to do is not always the same thing. Never one to be a sheep, Rebecca stands besides Red John as he completes his worldly mission.

                 She knows her place in His mission, which is why, she hounds Samuel Bosco (at His request) till she becomes his trusted secretary. Years and years of being brushed off and laughed at for her “dumpy” appearance, for her wooden mannerisms, for her porcelain frog collection, Rebecca does her God-given duty—all while wishing, she could just see Red John more than once or twice a month to satisfy his needs. Nevertheless, she ultimately understands his lack of presence, as he _is_ a busy man and regardless of his time commitments, she is his, in every form. 

                She _also_ knows how this will all end and she’s not afraid. She does not badmouth her savior, after shooting Bosco and his team (or scolding herself with hot coffee). Or, after the destroying the Carter Peak evidence to assist Him. Instead and dressed in chains, she merely smiles at Patrick Jane—and tells him of the cold, hard truths of a world, which he would have fully understood—if not for her Savior, Red John.

                “When you go to sleep tonight,” Jane tells her, though she’s only paying half-attention. “Think about how you’re nothing but a tool to Red John, and that he’s just using you.”

                Rebecca laughs as she’s led away, chains clacking together—and when she sees Him again, she cannot help but smile widely even as she feels her life fading at his gentle caress.

                For, she’s anything but a tool to the man, who inked her with his love and acceptance and _finally_ took her pain away from her.  

 

III.

 

                He considers Red John a despot; a man, who only gives after he receives what he demands—but he doesn’t care.

                Red John is a man of many faults, but Craig O’Laughlin still owes his life to him.  Up until _the_ injury, football had been his entire life and without it, he had felt as if he were nothing. Following the hospital and his subsequent surgery, his father had disowned him and the university had stripped away his full-ride sports scholarship. In turn, he had contemplated taking his own life, once or twice whilst in the hospital.

                Red John, however, had saved him before he had been able to garner enough courage to take his own life (or, at the very least, move past the shallow cuts made with his own fingernails); Red John had made him strong once more and in turn, Craig had sold his soul to the damned Devil out of gratitude. Never one to be reminded of his debts, Craig does whatever he can to (hopefully and eventually) pay back the life debt he’s under.

                Under the watchfulness of Red John, he goes back to college and ultimately becomes an Agent with the Sacramento FBI field office. On Red John’s implicit instructions and after nearly killing her and her puppy love interest, fellow CBI Agent Wayne Rigsby—he dates and proposes to CBI Agent Grace Van Pelt to be on the inside of the Red John investigation. He does not find Grace appealing, however; her lilac perfume knots his stomach, her voice grates on his nerves and above all, he finds her “workplace loyalty” to her fellow Serious Crimes Unit colleagues misplaced. Yet, he kisses and fucks her passionately, as any _good_ boyfriend-turned-fiancé should, while Red John observes from afar. 

                He, according to Red John, is the _perfect package_ for naïve women; intelligent, humorous, strong, handsome and above all else, he is everything Red John has groomed him to be and he no longer recognizes himself. He’s simply a marionette on a string, who sets individuals ablaze for deflecting and manipulates impressionable women, all in the name of his puppet master, Red John. A marionette with nothing to gain or lose, as he’s expected to _die_ in reparation for being _revived_ all of those years ago. 

                Suddenly, Grace becomes his salvation. If he’s _meant_ to die, he wants a bit of normalcy. If _only_ , long enough for the Serious Crimes Unit to kill Red John so he has some semblance of his soul back.

                So, he gives J.J. LaRoche the clue that a Red John mole _might_ be amongst them and hopes, they’ll figure it out before he’s forced to shoot them.

                But they don’t.

                And when he’s monologuing to Agents Van Pelt and Hightower, after he’s shot and killed two brothers in blue and wounded Teresa Lisbon (all against the wishes of his _Master_ , of course, as _nobody_ is allowed to hurt Teresa Lisbon but him), he considers briefly pulling the trigger three more times. As, how in the _hell_ could none of them have realized he was the mole? It was plain as day and regardless of how often he’s heard Red John praise the Serious Crimes Unit for their _intelligence_ and _resilience_ , he’s still trying to figure out if that unit and the unit he’s spent all year around are one-in-the-same. He also briefly considers turning the gun around on himself, as he knows there’s no way in hell he’s getting out of this one alive—and also, in part, because he _now_ realizes how stupid it was to leave his fate in the hands of Patrick Jane’s acolytes.

                He doesn’t though, as there’s no true honor in a suicide. Instead, he doesn’t avoid the rapid-shots that follow; and suddenly, he’s collapsing and he’s dying and it’s suddenly becoming _so much harder to breathe_ and his only wish—as he’s pulling on Grace’s necklace and choking on his own blood—is that he would have never allowed anyone to own him with a three-dot tattoo on his shoulder and overall, false promises of a brighter future.

                For, it’s far too late for him to die a free man.

 

IV.

                He hails Red John as the closest thing to a Deity he’s ever worshipped or believed in; a God, who revels in the purging of the damned—but as much as he tries, he knows he’ll never be on the same level as Red John.

                For Red John’s technique—all cloak and dagger—is flawless while he still hasn’t gotten past kidnapping little girls for sport and controlling his wife, but Timothy Carter anticipates the day he’ll be equivalent to Red John. He knows, however that Red John does not appreciate the little girls that he hides away _or_ the videos, he compulsively watches to get himself off on. With the exception of Patrick Jane’s little girl, he knows Red John does _not_ typically touch children; and while Timothy does not agree with Red John’s personal philosophy that children are _not_ meant to be harmed, he understands personal morals.

                (He just doesn’t think children are precious. He thinks of them as means to fit an end; items, he can ultimately use and reuse until they are no longer useful. It’s why he adopted Charlene and why he kidnapped Debbie.)

                Timothy doesn’t think any less for Red John for having those personal morals, because _he_ has them himself—and never one to deny himself of _any_ pleasures (directly related to his morals), he refrains from disposing of his wife as Red John has suggested for years. In-between the videos and the children, Sally Carter is an almost tolerable fuck—he loves to make her scream, enjoys how he fits inside of her, and loves to tie her up and fuck her against every available surface he can. He also enjoys her obedience, above all else; and it’s the only reason, in his opinion, any man should have a wife.

                On some level, Timothy is almost positive that Red John understands him—as they’ve both bared witness to the carnage that women almost always leave behind; and to silence a woman (figurative or literally) is the highest form of pleasure any one individual can obtain. He and Red John are one-in-the-same, essentially and their shared three-dot tattoo marks them for an eternity of brotherhood.

                Timothy’s never explicitly said it, but he’d lay down _his_ life for Red John to thrive; and so, when he’s asked to take credit for one of Red John’s _best_ to Patrick Jane _and_ hold the blonde ponce at gunpoint in the Sacramento Mall food court, Timothy cannot refuse.

                For, he’s always desired to follow in the footsteps of his God—regardless of the ultimate price, he may pay.


End file.
